Questions
by smileforawhile
Summary: In which Elsa still has a few questions for Hans. Not-so-evil Hans, one-shot, maybe OOC-ish on Hans' part


_Questions_

 _A/N:_ Excuse the horrible title, I couldn't think of a better one.

* * *

Elsa doesn't remember when the questions started to cloud her mind.

It was like one day, she had made peace with the situation and was ready, even relieved, to see Hans shipped back to his homeland. And then suddenly, the questions came, like an unexpected tirade of waves crashing onto the shores of her mind.

 _Why did he do it? What did her sister do to him to deserve such hatred? What did_ she _do to deserve such hatred?_

None of her questions were given the chance to be made public to anyone. Not to Anna or Kristoff, not to Gerda or Kai, and especially not to Hans himself.

Well, that wasn't until one fateful summer afternoon, when Elsa found herself perched in front of Hans' small cell.

He had changed significantly from since she'd last had the _pleasure_ of seeing him. It seemed as if he'd aged years in the few, short weeks. His auburn hair was longer and shaggier than before and it stuck out in all places, almost reminding her of dog fur. His chin was sporting the beginnings of a stubble and wrinkles were forming on his forehead.

But what struck her most about his appearance was his mouth, or rather, his expression.

She had expected it to be pulled into an angry, loathing scowl that would ultimately be directed at her, but instead, she found phis lips pulled down into a small, sad frown, resembling a scolded puppy.

It almost startled her.

She quickly regained her posture and put on a stern, purely professional face. It was the face Anna had come to label as her 'Queen Face'.

Once Elsa realized that Hans did not seem to have noticed her, or maybe he was just pretending not to have, she cleared her throat loudly. His eyes snapped to her form, and she came to realize that his green irises were strangely dull.

"Queen Elsa," he mumbled almost incoherently. He lowered his gaze to the floor, "Why are you here?"

She forced herself to remain calm, indifferent, even _cold_. Because he deserved it. After all he'd tried to do to her and her only sister, the only family member she had left, he definitely didn't deserve any hospitality from her.

"I'll be asking the questions," she said, her tone as ice cold as her powers. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could make out the looming shadows of her guards. They stood stiff and silent behind her.

Although she couldn't fathom how Hans would be able to do anything to her behind the black, steel bars that caged his cell, the two guards had insisted to come with her anyway.

Hans' Adam's apple bobbed. "What do you want to know?"

She ignored the fact that he had once again asked her another question and instead walked closer to his hunched form that sat on the stained mattress in the cell. "What did you wish to achieve? By killing Anna and I, I mean?"

His mouth opened and then closed, as if he decided to reconsider his words. She waited until his mouth opened again and his gaze met hers, "I thought it was clear enough. I wished to become king of Arendelle."

Elsa heard one of the guards behind her snort in amusement. She ignored him.

"I wished to have you and Anna out of my way so I could take control of Arendelle," he continued, his voice unwavering.

Elsa's stoic expression eased itself into a glare, "Why? Why did you find it necessary to get us out of your way? You could have still become king even if you had not tried to get rid of my sister and I. Anna loved you. For goodness sakes, she was going to marry you, although I still don't see what she ever saw in you."

Hans' gaze tore away from her icy blue glare and once again met the dark gray floor. "I did have feelings for Anna. Granted, they weren't enough to to convince me of not doing what I did, but not all of it was acting."

Elsa's glare didn't waver. "If you truly did care about her, you wouldn't have tried to kill her. You wouldn't have tried to kill me."

"I know," was his quiet reply.

When he looked back up at her, his expression bore hints of regret.

"What I still don't know," Elsa stated, "is what you wished to achieve by becoming king."

Hans didn't answer for a long, agonizing while.

The tangible silence stretched around the cold, dim cell until he finally spoke, "Growing up with twelve brothers, I was pretty much an embarrassment to the family. I didn't have the strengths of half my brothers or the intelligence of the other half. I-" he paused and his face contorted as if his next words pained him, "I wanted to be _something_. Anything that would earn me pride.

Anything that would make my brothers look at me and not sneer or look away in embarrassment. I thought if I became king of Arendelle, I'd finally earn my respect."

Elsa's voice dropped to a whisper without her realizing it, "You could have still had that. If you had given yourself time to love Anna like she loves, well, loved, you, maybe you wouldn't be here in this cell, but instead on a throne in the castle."

Hans shut his eyes tightly. "I know. I got selfish," his next words were so quiet that she almost didn't hear them, "and now my brothers will have solid proof that I'm what they always suspected me to be - a failure."

Elsa tried to ignore the pang of pity that suddenly hit her. Shutting her eyes briefly, she wondered why she was even pitying this man. He deserved none of her sympathy, but yet, as she opened back up her eyes to meet his slouched form and weary frown, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

He looked broken.

She turned back to the guards, whose faces were as stiff as ever. "I will be leaving now," she briefly glanced at Hans from over her shoulder, "you will be sent back to the Southern Isles as planned, next week Tuesday."

He barely shifted in response.

As she and her guards mounted the stone steps that led to the main floor of the castle, she heard him speak once more, his voice strained and low.

"Elsa."

She froze but did not turn around to face him.

"I'm sorry. To you, to Anna, and to Arendelle," he said.

Elsa sucked in a huge, deep breath that steadied her shaky breathing. She wanted to ignore him and leave, to pretend she didn't hear him, to act cold, to _hate_ him. But when she finally turned around and saw his dull eyes grazing over the floor and his hands tightly entwined in his lap, she couldn't help but feel anything but pity for this man.

"I forgive you," she forced out, and something seemed to spark in his emerald eyes, "but I'm not sure if the other two do or will ever forgive you."

With that, she mounted the stairs and left the murky dungeon which served as Hans' cell. Elsa didn't look back.


End file.
